


Lose

by mrspotatohead



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Dark, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, In the Maze, M/M, Protectiveness, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Talking, The Maze Runner Spoilers, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:28:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3875548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrspotatohead/pseuds/mrspotatohead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt tells Thomas all about how he got his limp.</p><p> </p><p>trigger & spoiler warnings apply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lose

"I want to get _out_ , Newt." Thomas almost whispered the words as he looked up at the older boy, who met his eyes with complete ease. It was late at night, and the two were sitting out in a far corner of The Glade beneath a dying tree, the only ones awake in the entire group of boys. Neither of them could sleep.

"Don't we all?" Newt replied, raising an eyebrow quizzically, a slight smirk playing on his lips. His soft accent punctuated each word, making him sound almost superior than everyone else without him even really trying to.

Thomas was quiet for a while, studying the Glade and the stillness of the night. It was a rare sight, to see it all so deserted and abandoned like this.

"Gally doesn't." He eventually responded with a heavy sigh. "Gally thinks we can all live here - _forever."_ He paused, the trees rustling in the slight, cool wind above them. "I can't do that, Newt. I won't."

Thomas wanted to scream at the thought of being stuck in the same place for the rest of his life, it terrified and infuriated and saddened him all at once. Never to see whatever family or friends he had before his memory was wiped and he was sent away again. Not even his parents. He couldn't remember them, but he must have had them and maybe they loved him, maybe they missed him. What were they like? What did they even _look_ like? Were they still alive, were they okay? He shook his head to stop the endless list of questions floating around his brain, but it didn't work. His brain still raced with unanswered words, a burning in his stomach to know more wouldn't ease up. His mind felt numb, like it was going to explode. 

"We might have to," Newt mumbled in response, and it was so soft that Thomas almost didn't catch it. The words made his stomach twist and his wide, glazed eyes well up.

"What? But - But I thought you guys were mapping the maze. I thought you were looking for a way, I thought - " Thomas rambled until the other boy cut him off, almost sharply, defensively. 

"We _are_ looking, Tommy. But we've been here for three _years_. It doesn't look very good, as far as getting out goes. As far as escaping goes." It was silent again after that, and Thomas shut his heavy eyes and leaned his head back against the hard bark of the tree. To hear Newt talk like that was probably the most unnerving thing that had happened in a while. Newt was _always_ the one with hope, _always_ the one who would fight even if there was no chance of winning. And here he was talking about never escaping, talking about being trapped here _forever_.

It made his heart ache, his eyes burn, and his hands shake uncontrollably. 

"So what? We're just gonna live here till we're old, we're just gonna rot and die here, huh?" Thomas breathed out, his voice catching in his throat, his eyes stinging with both anger and sadness and even despair. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the total _unfairness_ of it all. "I'm not doing that. I'm _not._ " 

"You don't have any other choice." Newt quipped somewhat calmly, turning to meet the younger boys eyes once more. Something flickered in them, but Newt couldn't tell what it was. It looked an awful lot like complete sadness, like lost hope, like utter darkness and it scared him that Thomas was so desperate for something that may never happen. So desperate to get out. Newt knew the feeling, but he hadn't had it since he first arrived all those years ago, back when he was oblivious to the reality of the Maze.

The younger boy furrowed his brow, his mind working in overdrive as he racked his brain for an answer, any answer. Anything to give himself a sense of hope. 

And then it hit him. It hit him with the force of a huge truck or a lighting bolt, almost knocking the air out of his lungs and making his blood pound like a drum in his ears.

"I do have a choice." The words were cold and spoken almost in monotone, but honest and quiet. This got Newt's attention, maybe it was the way he said it or the finality in his words, but it got his attention for one reason or another. It was deadly silent for a quick moment, the air filled with tension as they stared at each other.

"What're you talking about, Tommy?" His voice was cautious and filled with dread, as if he somewhat knew what was coming, as if he could read the other boys mind. Thomas chewed his bottom lip until he tasted blood before responding. 

"I do have a choice. We all do. Sure, maybe we'll never escape the Maze, maybe there is no way out of here, but there _is_ a way out. A way out of _everything_ , of all of this bullsh-" Thomas was once again cut off by Newt, who had sudden panic mingled with anger in his dark eyes as he listened to Thomas' relentless, hopeless words.  

"You're not saying what I think you're saying, Thomas. You're not." His jaw was set, his copper eyes ablaze and his toned arms folded across his chest, almost in denial. He wasn't just scared at Thomas' fatal suggestion - he was pissed by it. Pissed that the younger boy would even consider something as permanent, as final, as suicide. 

"Why not?" He frowned. "I didn't sign up for this. I should be able to quit whenever I fucking want to. If that involves flinging myself at a Griever or putting a knife through my own chest, I don't care. I want _out_." Thomas was taking erratic breaths, tears streaking down his paled face, his brow furrowed with intensity. He was glad it was dark so Newt couldn't see his face all that well. He doubted they'd even be having this conversation if it was day time and the Glade was full of people and noise and life. 

Another silence settled over them, but it was totally different this time. It wasn't peaceful like it had been just moments before - it was chilling and scary and slightly awkward in a weird, sad way. Nobody said much of anything, the only sounds being the wind, the trees rustling and beetle blades scuttling across the grass floor. Thomas began to wonder if Newt wasn't gonna talk to him anymore, if Newt wasn't gonna like him now he knew how weak and desperate he was. The thought scared him more than anything else. He didn't want to lose the only friend he really had here, the only person that seemed to actually like him.

"Tommy?" Again, Newt broke the painful silence. He didn't sound mad, he sounded calm with an underlying hint of worry, and his face was hard, nearly expressionless.

"Yeah?"

"Did..." Newt coughed, and then sighed heavily as if he was stalling. "Did I ever tell you about how I got my limp?"

"No." Thomas replied quickly. He would have remembered if Newt had told him that. "I just assumed you got hurt when you were a Runner in the Maze, or something." 

A humorless, dry laugh escaped Newt's lips, and it gave Thomas goosebumps. "Yeah, you could say that."  

He sounded almost bitter.

"So what happened?" Thomas pushed, curious now. He had wondered about it before, but had been too scared to ask in case it was something really, really bad or traumatic, so he'd let it go. In fact, he'd almost forgotten about it until now. 

Another long silence, yet shorter this time and not as unpleasant and then, 

"I'd been here exactly one year. As soon as the Doors opened, I ran out, right out, deep into the Maze. It was still a bit dark, I couldn't see _anything,_ really. And I wanted it to stop, Tommy. I wanted it to be over and I was so fucking tired of trying when I knew it was useless." Newt paused and Thomas couldn't say anything. His throat had closed up and his hands were shaking again and he actually couldn't believe his own ears, because he knew what was coming and it filled his gut with such a sickening misery and such a cold sense of resentment that it scared him. He'd never felt so much in one short moment before.

"So - So I did what I thought was best." Newt continued and his voice was a low rumble, croaky and painful, but he didn't seem to notice. "Climbed half way up one of those huge walls. It was so easy and it was such a relief - to know I wouldn't be here anymore." He licked his lips and looked at Thomas for a quick moment, before looking out into the Glade again. Neither one of them could hold eye contact. "And I let go. When I was half way up, I let go. I don't think I even hesitated. And I fell so fast and so hard, and landed mostly on my leg, and it shattered. It probably would've worked, I would've died if Alby hadn't of found me and dragged me back in time."   

Thomas had to muster every ounce of strength inside of him to form a reply that would make any kind of sense.

"Are you glad?" He asked the first thing that came to mind, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral and calming. His eyes were wet with fresh tears.

"About what?" 

"That Alby found you." He explained, then took a deep breath, and asked the question that had been burning into his mind since the revelation. "Are you glad it didn't work?"  

The query caught Newt off guard, but after thinking about it, he turned to Thomas and faced him properly for the first time since his confession. He met his gaze, his pained, squinted brown eyes meeting Thomas' bloodshot, tear filled ones. 

"Most of the time, I'm glad. I'm glad I survived and I'm glad Alby was there. But, honestly, sometimes, I wish he'd have just left me for a Griever to find. I wish I would've hit my head as hard as I'd hit my leg, and shattered my skull instead of my knee. No way I would've survived that." Newt ignored the way Thomas flinched at his brutally harsh words. "And then, about a month after I tried, I realized something, and I want you to realize it now, Tommy, before you try anything stupid." He leaned close, like he was about to whisper a huge secret. "If we die, they win." 

The words seeped into Thomas' mind and only half made sense at first. He hadn't been expecting that. 

"What do you mean?" He questioned Newt, who was smiling in a way that looked more like a maddening grimace than a grin. 

"Its obvious we're in some kind of experiment. This is some kind of game, I mean, its a _Maze_ for god sake. They want us to lose, they want us to give up. And that's whats kept me going for 2 and a half goddamn years. I hate losing, Tommy. If anything, I hate bloody losing." Newt suddenly stood up quickly as soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, and began limping back to his sleeping place, leaving Thomas under the dying tree in the corner of The Glade, alone.

As Thomas was walking back to his own hammock, he nodded softly to himself as he made a decision in his mind. He wasn't going to lose. If there was one thing he couldn't stand more than being trapped in this Maze, it was losing.

He would win this. He had to.

 

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this bc I'm still not over Newt and Thomas, and I never fuckin will be okay
> 
> reviews and kudos mean a lot to me!! so, if you liked it, be sure to tell me.  
>  


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